


Iron Blessing

by impish_nature



Series: Imptober [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Gen, angel to the rescue, captured and in need of rescue, demon in distress, or more downstairs management sucks, warnings for violence/injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Crowley could really use some angelic intervention to get himself out of the hole he’s dug himself.Prompt: Shackled
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Imptober [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949311
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Iron Blessing

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here we are! The first of what I’ve jokingly dubbed ‘Imptober’. It's Whumptober but with the twist that I probably won't be sticking to whump if I think up dumb silly things for some of them - I just want to have fun and get back into writing <3
> 
> This actually is number one in the list but I’m not sure I’ll stick to it as some I’m finding harder than others to think up ideas for.

"What? No witty one liner this time?"

"I thought you didn't like them?" Crowley smiled, wide and vicious, bloodstained teeth visible as he spat to the side. This wasn't quite how he'd expected to be spending his day but then again, when did anything ever go to plan for him?

The man before him scowled, a deep, dark expression that was filled with loathing and disgust. "Whatever you're trying _this time_ , it won't work."

Crowley rolled his eyes, hating that his sunglasses had been removed, although grimly satisfied as every movement of his pupils seemed to make the guy more nauseously repulsed. "Obviously." He rattled the chains that held him tight against the wall, his arms stretched further than was comfortable and his feet barely touching the floor. Every small jostle caused another spike of pain to spark down his arms, nerves alight with electricity, but he refused to show that pain as he nonchalantly looked around the room.

Whatever he did, it unnerved his target more and more with every passing second, and without a plan or any means of escape, it was about all he could muster in the hopes of somehow getting free.

"Mind slackening these off a bit? I'm starting to lose feeling in my fingers."

The man snarled, stepping closer, their faces inches apart. "Why should I? You don't deserve any mercy."

"Charming. Real religious of you, that is." If Crowley could move he'd have tugged at the clerical collar around the other's throat. So, maybe he'd been trying to tempt him into things he really shouldn't have been, luring him away from his religious teachings and the like, but weren't these people meant to be all about forgiveness and that other rubbish?

"As if you're one to talk." Crowley bit his tongue at the once over he was given. His quick witted tongue had got him more than one punch over- well, however long he'd been chained to this wall- and he was slowly learning that perhaps staying quiet was more likely to get him out of here quicker. "I don't know what you thought you were going to accomplish coming after me, but you chose the wrong person to mess with..." He wished he could wipe that stupid smug smile off of his face. "And soon you'll be back where you belong."

"Oh? Where's that? 'Cause I could really go for a bite to eat right now- _oof._ "

Crowley winced, coughing at the sudden gut punch. OK, so, he wasn't the _fastest_ of learners, but who could blame him when he kept giving him openings like that? He grunted as his head was pulled back, his hair taut and tugging at his scalp until he was eye to eye again with his captor. 

"Joke all you want, soon your vessel will be free and you'll be back in Hell." Part of him almost wanted to laugh. His _vessel_? Oh, if only they knew how it actually worked. If it wasn't such a worrisome thing to be cast from his body the way they planned, he'd almost like to stay and watch their victory turn to horror as the body crumpled before them, only ever having been _his_. A particularly hard yank dragged him from that hysterical amusement, made him curse and the man's smile widened. "Just a little while longer. Enjoy yourself while you can." 

And with that his head was dropped, the jolt causing another bolt of electricity to snap down his arms. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the cry that wanted to bubble from his lips, refusing to be vulnerable, refusing to be anything but the monster they thought he was. He waited until he was left alone to give a shuddering breath, to wince at the manacles biting at his wrists and try to gently roll his shoulders from the pain. All it did was cause more issues, each movement a burn across already red raw skin, but everything ached enough that he couldn't quite stop himself from trying.

"Shit, what have I gotten myself into here..."

"Yes. What have you?"

Crowley's head snapped up in surprise, his entire body flinching and causing another stream of pain to circulate his system in a spasm. He cursed, eyes screwed shut, though the relief swelling in his heart outweighed it all as he opened one eye painfully and stared at the apologetically concerned, though also somehow irritated, face before him. " _Angel_ , you have impeccable timing as always."

"I try my best." Aziraphale shuffled forwards, looking over his shoulder as he did so. "I'm not sure how much time we have-"

"Should be a little while, he only just left." 

Aziraphale nodded. "I thought I saw someone leave this room, it's why I'd hoped I'd found the right spot." His eyes trained back on Crowley's, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as his hands outstretched uncertainly, hesitant and hovering around him. "Why on earth are you letting him hurt you like this?"

Crowley huffed, rolling his head to one side to stare at him disbelievingly. "Like I'd let him if I had a choice." He shook his hands, belatedly hissing at the movement before grumbling through gritted teeth. "Ble- _fuck_ \- blessed chains. Thought your lot had stopped making these years ago."

Aziraphale winced sympathetically, though his eyebrows were vanishing into his hairline. "So had I. There were memos and everything against creating such things- I haven't heard about anyone being allowed to bless items for the humans like this since the 15th century."

"Yeah, well either this guy is an avid collector or someone on your side is ignoring protocol." Crowley shrugged, before looking between Aziraphale and the manacles pointedly. "So... any chance of a hand? Or did you just come here to gloat at my misfortune?"

Aziraphale ruffled at the accusation. "I came to find you, thank you very much." He put his hand on Crowley's chest, steadying him, as his other hand flew upwards, a faint miracle burning Crowley's wrists even warmer before the binding snapped entirely and with a groan of relief he fell forward into Aziraphale's waiting arms. "I will admit, I didn't think I'd find you in this state." 

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting it either." Crowley hissed as Aziraphale accidentally pressed on forming bruises, wishing yet again that he could put his glasses on as the other eyed him carefully, concern ever present amongst his fluttering hands. "Not every day I get a job like this."

"Why didn't you inform me you had a job? Isn't that part of our arrangement?"

"Yeah, well, couldn't have you interfering with this one." Crowley clung tightly to Aziraphale's coat as he made to move away. "Sorry! Sorry, don't-" He sighed as Aziraphale huffed and pulled him upright, steadying him once more. "I just meant that I was being watched. Kind of put my foot in it down in the office. Hadn't done enough demonic temptations recently and it was made rather clear that they thought I was losing my _touch_." He rested his head against the other's shoulder, relaxing into the hold as his legs felt like jelly beneath him. "Couldn't have that. Not if I wanted to be able to stay top-side with you." 

He'd probably hate being quite so honest when he'd slept for a week, which was entirely what he planned to do once they got out of here.

"You still should have told me." The words were faint, disappointed in a way that made his heart ache. "What would you have done if I hadn't found you?"

"Well, we don't need to- wait, how _did_ you find me?"

The tips of Aziraphale's ears went red from where Crowley could see them. "I told you, I came looking for you."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"You weren't in your home asleep, and you hadn't been to see me in a while. So naturally I got worried."

Crowley blinked at him for a few moments as they wobbled forward, watching his rather determined stare directly away from him before grinning as widely as his forming bruises would allow. "You _didn't_."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, you _do_. What will management say when they find out you used a miracle to locate a demon?"

Aziraphale sniffed. "If I had done that- which I didn't- then I'm sure I could justify it, such as making sure you weren't getting up to any of your serpentine tricks."

"Mm-hmm? Maybe don't tell them your next miracle was helping me escape then."

"I have no intention of giving paperwork in on any of this." Came the soft mutter beside him. "And now is not the time for this discussion. I'm assuming you're not up to getting us out of here?"

"Unfortunately-" Crowley tried to stand on his own two feet, before promptly falling into Aziraphale's side. "-that'd be a no." 

"Of course." Aziraphale finally looked at him, expression trying for unamused but falling short at the image he was obviously seeing, something that Crowley would feel utterly mortified by if he wasn't still on a strange high from the angel coming to get him in the first place. "You owe me one for this." 

"Always, Angel-" Before the words were quite off of his tongue, there was a jarring pull to the back of his collar, not dissimilar to the jolts the manacles had sparked around his wrists, and suddenly they were back in a familiar bookshop, the smell of old paper and tea catching him off guard as he stumbled off course at the motion.

"Easy, I've got you. I've got you." Aziraphale muttered words to him as if it was a mantra. As if he was worried he would pass out on him as he shuffled them both over to the nearest couch, propping Crowley up like a limp puppet before kneeling back on the carpet with a wounded noise. "Dear me, you are a sight."

"Charming." Crowley huffed out a pained laugh, letting himself sprawl into a lying position as Aziraphale knelt before him. "S'not my fault I look good even with a few bruises." He couldn't help but smirk at the cluck of disapproval he received for his smart response. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, too exhausted to do much else. "Thanksss. Angel."

Aziraphale blinked at him, shocked and confused by the gratitude. "Of course. I couldn't just leave you there." 

"You could have." Crowley let his eyes fall closed again. "Probably should have, really." When his words gained no sharp response back, he opened them slowly, frowning as the other ignored him, eyes focused on something else entirely. "What?"

"What's that on your wrists?"

Crowley's frown deepened. He pulled his hands up towards his face with much difficulty, his limbs struggling to hold their own weight let alone fight gravity right now. He had assumed that there might be red raw skin from the manacles and was about to jest as much but the thick covering of black, charred scales that spread wherever the cold metal had touched made him speechless for a second too. "Oh, must be a reaction to the blessing." He winced, rubbing his fingers across them to assess the damage, as painful as that was, even as Aziraphale made a pained noise and pulled his hands apart. "Easy, angel, I just needed to see how damaged they were. Scales are weird, you don't really feel when they're burning. A couple of sheds will hopefully do the trick." He tried to smirk again, though he wasn't sure if it came out as more of a grimace. "Guess I'll have to make sure I wear long sleeves for a while."

Again, his words were ignored as Aziraphale continued to stare down at the hand within his grasp. Fingers trailed across his palm, sending goose bumps and heat across his body in a far different and far more pleasant way than the manacles had. The fingers slipped further, softly tracing scale and skin, flitting worriedly where they met as if testing the waters, testing if it hurt, before gaining courage and pressing on the wounded flesh itself. Crowley gasped at the moment of pain before a cooling sensation washed over every imprint, each touch a soothing balm that coated each individual scale and sealed it over, every press a wash of relief that melted into muscle and sinew and relaxed them all from their coiled state. 

Crowley stared down at his wrist quietly as Aziraphale moved onto the other. It looked the same as it had before, the softest of miracles caressing his skin as if the angel still held him, medicating him so that he could heal with some respite.

When Aziraphale was done with his other wrist, he sat back on his haunches, the pair of them staring at each other as if not quite sure where to go from here.

Another appreciative comment was locked to the tip of Crowley's tongue, unsure whether to let the moment lie or break it where it sat.

As the moment stretched on and on though, the other watching him for signs of further pain, he felt obliged to do so. "Tha-"

"Don't."

He knew he shouldn't have tried.

Crowley sighed as he was cut short. Of course they weren't going to talk about things like rational beings- when had they ever been rational? Communicated? He got it though. If they didn't bring it up then it didn't happen and Aziraphale didn't have to think about why he had done the things that he had just done. Didn't have to defend himself in fear that he'd have to do the same again once he went back upstairs. 

But maybe more importantly, if they didn't talk about it, he didn't have to think about what all of this actually _meant_ , deep down.

Crowley knew all the things that could be spinning in his head, they'd spun around his own often enough. They were always orbiting one another but at different speeds, never quite connecting at the right time for both of them and always missing opportunities that could have changed everything.

He couldn't say he wasn't disappointed though, even as tired as he was in that awkward silent moment.

Thankfully, Aziraphale broke it, changed the entire momentum of their orbits, almost bringing their trajectory back into their normal, pleasant routine.

"Perhaps Downstairs was right."

"Excuse me?"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, mouth tweaking up in that way that suggested he was up to no good. "That you're losing your touch. You've never gotten yourself into quite that much trouble before with just a simple temptation."

 _Bastard_.

Crowley tried to sit up, the hand on his chest stopping him as he was pushed back down on the couch. "How was I supposed to know the priest they were sending me after was a certified exorcist?"

Aziraphale stared him down, anger and shock mingling in his gaze. "They didn't tell you that before they sent you on the job?"

Crowley blinked back at him before groaning, head flopping back against the arm of the chair. "No. No, they did not. Happy? Fuck all details are ever given down there. You deal or you don't. No one cares." 

"...Of course I'm not happy. Not at all." 

Crowley looked back over as a hand softly trailed across his temple, that glimmer of righteous anger still visible in the angel's eyes as he no doubt took in every bruise across his face. He raised a hand to stop him, wrapping his fingers around the other's wrist and softly pulling it away. "No more miracles, angel. You'll start to cause suspicion." 

"I can't just leave you like this."

"You can. And you will." Crowley winced as he shuffled, twisting himself into a more comfortable position. "I just need some rest and I'll do it myself. Don't you worry. I'll be back to my stunningly gorgeous self in no time." His cocky grin was no doubt marred by the yellow and purple mottling across his cheeks but it seemed to soften Aziraphale's face nonetheless.

"Then you should rest." 

Crowley nodded. This was more than their arrangement had ever dictated, but he knew better than to push further. The last time he had tried he had moved too fast and he refused to break this moment, especially when he was so exhausted and vulnerable. He didn't want to cause distress, or for the other to feel the need to defend his actions and take him back to his own minimalistic flat to deal with this alone.

...He really didn't want to be alone right now.

So, if the angel covered him with a blanket when he thought he had fallen asleep, or softly carded his fingers through his hair, soothing his scalp... Or Heaven forbid, whispered softly above him-

"Rest. No one will hurt you here, my dear. I promise you that." 

Well, his lips were sealed. 

No one would ever find out that he had escaped only due to an angel's intervention.

And he would never bring up the obvious affection and concern the other seemed to hold for him, unless the other brought it up first.


End file.
